


Tailwind

by Moiself



Series: Bottom/sub!Dean [25]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bottom Dean, Edging, Established Relationship, Fandom Trumps Hate, Golden Age of Ambreigns, M/M, Motel room fun, Secret Relationship, Showers, Tenderness, ambreigns - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-04-04 10:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself
Summary: They don't know when they might get separated, so Dean and Roman make the most of their off days.Together.In secret.It's worked out pretty well...so far.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TitaniumKitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitaniumKitten/gifts).



> A long overdue fic for Titaniumkitten who won me in the first Fandom Trumps Hate auction & who has been phenomenally patient waiting for this. Hope it's been worth the wait.
> 
> (Details of the prompt will be posted after the second part is uploaded next weekend.)

Dean and Roman gifted a few final waves and smiles to the fans besieging the arena parking lot and slipped into their rental car, a sigh of relief escaping Dean's lips the moment his ass made contact with the leather of the passenger seat.

Surreptitiously, Roman reached across and squeezed his knee reassuringly, checking the rearview mirror as he did so, ensuring that no invasive camera lens would pick up anything it shouldn't.

"Buckle up, babe."

"Huh?"

"Seatbelt."

Dean snapped out of the semi trance he had fallen into and snapped the seatbelt into place, sinking back into the seat once more the moment Roman started the engine and pulled out the lot. They drove in companionable silence through the heavy traffic in the streets surrounding the arena, with a few more smiles and waves for any eagle eyed fans in neighbouring vehicles making their own way home from the show until they reached the open road and relative anonymity of the freeway.

Only once the exit for the airport whizzed past the window did both men's posture relax. Shuffling around in his seat so that he could face him, Dean smiled brightly at his partner. This was his favourite part of the week, Roman's too, and it showed.

"So...where are we going?"

Roman returned Dean's smile with one of his own, just as warm and full of fond affection, reaching over with his right hand to gently caress Dean's cheek.

"Well, my dear Mr Brooks..."

"Borden," Dean interrupted.

"Borden? I thought you were Shawn Brooks and I was Marty Williams?"

"Time for a change. I'm Rick Borden and you're Scott Toombs."

Both hands back on the steering wheel, Roman stared at the road ahead of the car, silent for a moment, chuckling once he worked it out.

"Booking has been made, but next time you can be Rick. I think you're doing yourself a mighty big disservice there though."

"You're biased, now come on. Tell me where we're going." He blew his partner a kiss, listening with interest as Roman described the small, out of the way lodge where they would be spending their next two days off.

This had been their preferred way to pass the days when they weren't working for a while now, ever since the rumours of a brand split began to circulate again. They came and went every so often, but this time it seemed as though the office might actually be serious about it, and with no guarantees that they might end up together, Roman and Dean had decided to make the most of things while they could.

The first time had been a spur of the moment thing.

They had left the arena at the end of their work week as usual, sharing a ride to the airport together. Dean had been driving that night, one hand on the wheel, the other in Roman's, whining about how much he was going to miss him over the next few days until the house show loop gave them an excuse to share the same room again.

"I just hate this part, Ro...me going one way to Vegas and you going the other way to Tampa and we don't even get to have a big sappy airport farewell like normal couples. No...we have to be sneaky and say our goodbyes in a shadowy corner of the parking structure in case someone sees..."

"So don't," Roman had interrupted.

"Don't what? Don't say goodbye? Didn't you hear me, Roman? I _need_ those goodbye kisses to keep me going until Friday."

"I mean don't go our separate ways."

"I love you man, but that is the dumbest idea I ever heard. Can you imagine how the fans would react if you were spotted in Vegas, or if I was spotted in Tampa? We would be mobbed."

"I know that, but who says we have to go home at all? I'm just going back to my place to sleep and do laundry and count the hours until I can see you again, and I'm pretty sure you're doing the same thing."

Dean nodded, eyes still on the road as he began to get in lane for the airport exit.

"So don't take this exit," Roman continued. "Just drive on. We'll find a motel, somewhere we won't be so easy recognised, hole up for the next couple of days. Just you and me, no one chasing us to go do media, or to go to the gym with them, it'll be like a vacation." 

"I've heard that word before, but I'm not sure I know what it means." Dean laughed.

"What do you say? If this rebrand thing goes ahead this year who knows where we might end up? We might not get many more chances to do something recklessly spontaneous like this."

Dean answered not with words, but by swiftly turning the steering wheel and switching lane. Roman brought their still joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to Dean's knuckles.

Roman had used his phone to cancel both their flights so that no one would be alerted to their absence by a boarding call and then quickly found them a motel another hour's drive away at the edge of a nearby small town.

They had spent a few very enjoyable days curled around each other in their motel room, leaving only to go find a laundromat and for food. They made love when they felt like it, took pleasure in simply being around each other without fear of interruption or having to hide their affection. By mutual decision, they had agreed to keep the true nature of their relationship private. The fans believed they were friends, and creative continued to book them together, both things giving them acceptable cover to ride or room together. Their co-workers might speculate in private, but Seth and Ron were the only ones who knew the real truth, Seth because he had been there to witness the beginnings, and Ron because...well, neither of them were quite sure how he had figured it out when everyone else was very much of the belief that they were just friends. He had just turned to Roman when they were getting into their shared rental one night while Dean was away filming and told him he was fine to drive if Ro wanted to call his boo. Once Roman had managed to quit stammering, Ron had patted him on the shoulder and told him to call his damn boyfriend and say hi to Dean from him. He had kept their secret ever since.

Ron had been the only one to comment when they joined the rest of the roster again after that first time, saying only how well rested and chilled out both men had seemed.

Since then it had been their day off routine. Not every single time, sometimes going home was unavoidable, although home didn't feel very homelike these days for either Dean or Roman without the other one there.

Most of the time they would check in themselves in to a quiet motel or inn, driving into the night after the show. A handful of times they had been able to stay at each others homes when the week finished or the next one started close by.

Neither of them had brought up the conversation yet of what they would do about things if they did end up being separated, but while the going was good, they were happy to leave that discussion for another day.

And it certainly wasn't a discussion on the table for tonight. The only plan for tonight was to make it to their motel in one piece through the wind and rain that had started up about 45 minutes into their drive and done nothing but get heavier in the hour since.

"Aren't the office supposed to tell us if there's a weather warning before we leave the arena?" Dean glared out of the window into the dark stormy night.

"To be fair, it _is_ Tuesday, the furthest they expected us to go was to the airport..." Roman reached towards Dean, only to have his hand batted away.

"Don't be so reasonable...and keep your two hands on the wheel!"

"This isn't all that severe even, now back home we get some _real_ weather. This is just a breeze, baby boy...just a breeze...and look we're almost there. Next exit is ours."

"Looks like a little more than a breeze to me," Dean muttered quietly, dragging his gaze away from the window, distracting himself with investigating the contents of the glove compartment until Roman headed down the off ramp and an approaching brightly lit gas station caught his attention.

"Stop here, Ro! We need snacks!"

Dutifully Roman pulled in, giving in to Dean's puppy dog eyes without a fight when his boyfriend asked him to go get food since he didn't want to go out into the 'light breeze'. In only a few minutes, he was back, dumping a pile of the finest cuisine the gas station had to offer in Dean's lap, shivering at the chill and attempting to restore order to his wind whipped hair before he buckled up and set back off along the road.

The lights of the motel sign appeared like a welcoming beacon in the ever worsening weather. Drawing up as close as he could to the office, Roman hopped out and jogged across to check them in leaving Dean to wait in the car. He reappeared a few minutes later, adding the room key to the pile of goodies in Dean's lap, starting the engine once more to move the car down to the far end of the lot, parking in front of the very last room in the old fashioned single storey block.

Dean scurried ahead to open the door, setting his armful of food and drinks on the nearest flat surface, turning back in time to meet Roman in the doorway and relieve him of some of their bags. With no effort at all they slipped into their nightly routine, one that could almost be called domestic if they were actually at home and not in yet another hotel room. Roman sifted through their bags, fishing out wash bags, clean shorts and phone chargers for both himself and Dean while his man drew the flimsy curtain across the window, tweaked the aircon to something more comfortable and sorted through their gas station picnic haul. Pecks and light touches were exchanged any time their paths brought them close enough, a little more of the outside world falling away with each one.

This was their bubble, this was _their_ time. Right now they weren't WWE Superstars performing in the public eye, right now they were just Dean and Roman, winding down after a tough week at work.

Refuelled by some snacks, they stripped and headed into the bathroom. Both had already showered at the arena after their matches, but this shower wasn't about getting clean, this was about washing away the cares of the work week, about taking care of each other.

The bathroom was a little old fashioned, but the shower stall was large enough to accommodate them both comfortably. Just like their unpacking, this moment too had a rhythm and ritual all of its own.

Dean gathered their supplies while Roman adjusted the water temperature then stepped back to allow the younger man to slip past him into the spray. Roman grabbed his shampoo and set about the lengthy process of tending to his locks as Dean reached for the washcloth and shower gel, turning his careful attention to his lover's broad back. His ministrations were tender, focussed, the adoration he felt for Roman evident in his unhurried touch. With the same attentiveness, Dean passed his washcloth over the rest of Roman's body, taking extra care over injured places, allowing himself to linger over the intricate tattoo he could happily lose hours tracing.

Few words passed between them. They both knew this dance well, Roman switching from slathering his own hair in conditioner to picking up the shampoo again for Dean without prompting, needing no cue to take the washcloth from him once done.

Now it was Dean's turn to be the object of devotion. 

Roman's large hands tended to Dean with a gentleness which, to an outsider, might seem at odds to his size and the power he displayed in the ring. With a delicate, light touch, he reverently cleansed Dean's body, feeling his lover relax under his care. Finished, he abandoned the washcloth, wrapping his arms around Dean's trim waist, pressing soft fleeting kisses to his neck, humming quietly with satisfaction.

Turning within the circle of that loving embrace, Dean's lips sought out Roman's, their kiss quickly gaining in passion. Roman pulled his beloved close, his hands gravitating to the slick, shower-wet globes of Dean's ass. The heat of their kiss was mirrored in the urgent hunger of their motions, all quiet gentleness now cast aside as their shared arousal grew. Dean's fingers threaded through his man's wet locks, his right leg gliding upwards over Roman's, coming to rest hooked over his hip. 

Taking advantage of the unspoken invitation, Roman's thick fingers dipped into the spread cleft between Dean's cheeks, circling the delicate skin surrounding the most intimate part of his boyfriend's body. Breaking the kiss, Dean buried his head in the crook of Roman's neck as a single digit pressed against his hole, the still flowing warm water easing it's path, thrusting in and out of his ass in a steady rhythm. He hitched his leg higher, opening himself up to Roman's touch even more, sighing in satisfaction as a second finger joined the first, stretching him open, seeking that sensitive spot deep inside.

"Roman...please...," Dean rocked against Roman as he spoke, their hard dicks rubbing against each other sending shivers of pleasure through them both.

"What's that, baby boy?" Roman added a third finger to the two working Dean open.

"Your fingers feel so good...want you to pick me up and fuck me right here..."

"Or how about we get out of this shower before the water goes cold and we go make the most of that nice big bed? Sound good, baby?"

At Dean's sounds of assent, Roman reached blindly for the controls, shutting off the water. Silencing Dean's complaint with a kiss, he slipped his fingers from his hole, and with a hand under each firm thigh, hefted his lover into his arms, making quick work of the short trip back into the cosy bedroom.

Kneeling onto the bed, Roman laid Dean down on top of the covers, tenderly brushing aside a damn lock of hair that hid from view the blue eyes he adored. Slowly, but with no less passion than a few moments ago in the shower, Roman began to rain nips and kisses over Dean's body, light so as to leave no trace that might warrant an uncomfortable explanation at work, grinding his hips between his lover's spread legs, revelling in the gasps and mutterings of pleasure his attentions drew from the man writhing beneath him, the sounds masked by the steady winds outside.

"Roman! I...I...I need..." Dean's voice fell away into a groan as Roman tugged lightly at his nipple, tongue flickering over the pebbled stiff nub once he let it fall from his teeth. 

"What do you need baby boy?" The faintest whisper of Roman's whiskers over Dean's teased skin was enough to make him shudder before he could answer, voice hoarse with desire.

"Need you. Just...just...you..."

"You have me Deano. I'll take care of you...trust me on that...I'll always take care of you." 

Roman's right hand felt around the sheets, seeking Dean's, fingers squeezing together, a silent promise emphasising the conviction of his words. 

Returning to his pleasant task, Roman continued to paint Dean's abdomen with kisses, marvelling to himself as he always did at the good fortune that had brought them together, at how they had made it down such long and winding paths to find themselves in each others arms. His philosophical moment was just that, a mere moment, as the trail of his lazy kisses brought him to the coarse fuzz of Dean's pubic hair. Back in their early days together, Dean had still kept up the conscientious grooming regime he had followed as a wearer of trunks, even though their Shield gear had covered everything. Now he let everything from the belt down grow out, from the hair on his legs to the whorl of dark blonde around his hole and Roman loved it. He nuzzled the damp curls before making himself comfortable between Dean's firm thighs.

A big hand wrapped around the base, Roman brought the head of Dean's cock to his lips, tongue darting out to lap a fat drop of precum from the slit. Almost reverently, he pressed a kiss to the ruddy tip before taking the stiff shaft into his mouth.

Roman prided himself on his ability to reduce his boyfriend to a quivering boneless man shaped mass by sucking his cock, but that wasn't his intention tonight. At least not yet.

Steadily he built up the pace, swirling his tongue around Dean's hot length, head bobbing as he sucked him deep and pulled off over and over, rewarding his lover's moans with even greater attentions. It wasn't long before he heard the panted out words he had been waiting on.

"Fuck...Rome...I'm gonna..."

Sharply, he pulled off and clamped his hand around the hilt of Dean's dick, rearing up on his knees to look down at Dean's outraged face.

"YOU BASTARD!" Dean thrashed against the pillow, face scrunched up in clear frustration. 

Roman leaned forward, free hand brushing against Dean's cheek.

"Hush baby boy...not yet...just hold on for me and I'll make you feel even better. Can you do that?"

It took a solid half minute before Dean was able to unscrew his face and look at Roman, another half minute again before he was able to answer.

"Yes."

"So here's what's about to happen. In a little minute I'mma let go. Then I'mma spread your sweet ass wide so I can see your pretty little hole and I'm going to eat you out...ok?" 

Dean groaned.

"But you're still not gonna cum baby. You're gonna be a good boy and stay still and tell me when you're close..."

"Romaaaaaan!" Dean's voice was almost a whine.

"...and when you tell me you're close, I'm gonna stop. And then when you've calmed down I'm gonna take these long legs of yours and put them over my shoulders and I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you'll be in bed until the day after tomorrow. And then, then you can cum..."

"Please. All of that please Ro...I'll be good."

"Ok then, you ready for me to let go?"

At Dean's nod, Roman eased his grip, hands moving to his lover's hips, dragging him closer, manhandling him into position. With a palm on each inner thigh and wicked smile on his face, Roman spread Dean wide before dropping his head to swipe a wet lick over Dean's pucker.

He glanced up, gratified by the wrecked expression on Dean's face, blowing him a cheeky kiss. 

"Remember baby boy, you gotta be good for me, stay nice and still, but you don't gotta be quiet."

Roman set his mouth to Dean's hole once again, alternately sweeping around the rim and pressing against the drawn entrance until he was able to push inside, fucking into the heat of Dean's ass with his wet tongue. Dean's moans of pleasure grew louder, in competition now with the growing howls of the wind that had been their constant soundtrack since the highway.

The mattress shook. Roman playfully spanked Dean's ass in a wordless reminder of his agreement to stay still, mouth still preoccupied with attending to his hole.

The mattress shook again.

Roman nipped at the inside of Dean's thigh, eyes fixed on the sight of his thumb sliding into the sloppy open mess of Dean's hole, keeping up the task of stimulating Dean so he could speak.

"I thought you were going to be a good boy and keep still...you don't want me to have to get the ropes out, do you?" Without waiting for an answer, he delved back into Dean's cleft, gripping his thighs even tighter, spreading them even further apart.

Dean struggled to sit up, only for Roman to shift his weight, pressing him further into the bed. He batted at his boyfriend's head, desperately fighting his arousal, trying to get his attention.

"Roman stop!” The note of panic in his voice had the older man stilling at once. “ _It's not me!_ "


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skip to end notes for original prompt & warnings.

The speed with which Roman's head popped up from between Dean's legs would have been comical if the lights hadn't began to flicker and the window hadn't began to rattle alarmingly at the same moment. All arousal vanishing like a wisp of smoke, Dean shoved himself back towards the head of the bed.

"Light breeze, Ro?" 

Dean's voice was sharp, his words clipped, hovering on the very edge of panicked. He reached out for Roman's hand, gravitating towards the older man's grounding touch. Roman squeezed his fingers, offering reassurance as he quickly scanned the room, taking stock of the situation. 

The lights were now flickering rapidly enough to almost be strobing, the large window still shaking menacingly in it's frame, the whole unnerving situation in no way helped by the vicious screeching of something metallic outside as it was blown across the parking lot by the force of the wind. Thankfully it sounded more like a trash can than a car, but it still made him uneasy. It had been so dark when they arrived, and the weather already so foul that they had rushed into their room that Roman had absolutely no idea if there were any utility poles or trees nearby which might be a potential hazard. That thought did not sit well with him.

Deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry, he sprang into action, hopping off the bed, seeking out their clothes. Mindful of Dean's slightly nervous wariness, he kept his tone light as he informed him of the plan.

"Looks like we're moving this sleepover back to the bathroom, baby boy," He threw a pair of shorts at his lover. "Get those on and grab the cover and pillows...we might as well get comfortable."

He stepped into his own shorts and dragged a fresh shirt over his head, grabbing another for Dean as well as their cell phones and a handful of snacks from their picnic selection. Turning back to the bed, he was greeted with the sight of Dean still sat in the same spot against the pillows, looking as if he had barely moved at all.

"Come on Deano, you gotta move...shorts on, babe..."

Prompted by Roman's urging, Dean finally got to his feet, stooping to slip on the shorts Roman had flung his way. 

At that same moment all hell broke loose.

The unmistakable sound of shattering glass heralded a spike in volume as the window blew in, smashed by what appeared to be a large branch, answering Roman's question about whether there had been any trees surrounding them in the worst way possible. 

The lights finally flickered out for good a second later, lasting just long enough for Roman to witness Dean, shorts still no further than his knees, stumble backwards, catching his head on the sharp corner of the nightstand, falling to the floor in a frighteningly motionless heap.

"Dean!"

Glass and god only knows what else crunched under Roman's bare feet as he rushed across the room to his stricken boyfriend's side. He paid it no need in his haste, desperate to reach Dean, desperate to make sure he was ok, casting aside everything he was holding except his cell phone.

Reaching the fallen branch he was relieved to see that it seemed to have missed Dean. The window however was obliterated, as was the wall underneath it, and the angle it had fallen at was blocking the door, but none of that mattered as long as it hadn't landed on the most precious thing in the room. He stepped over it, wincing as a sharp broken twig scratched at his shin. 

Turning on the flashlight on his phone, he checked out Dean's prone form. Thankfully, Dean seemed to have been mostly unharmed by the breaking glass, save for what seemed to be a few minor scratches on his lower legs, but that was small consolation in the face of the slowly spreading pool of blood underneath his head and the even more worrying fact that he appeared to have been knocked out cold.

Roman inspected the area around Dean's head as best he could without moving him. Tracing the source of the bleeding to a gash above Dean's ear, Roman pulled off his shirt, softly pressing it against the wound in an attempt to halt the flow, desperately hoping it was the only cut.

"Did I win?" Dean slurred, starting to come round.

Roman placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, gently holding him down as he attempted to sit up.

"Stay still baby boy. You cracked your head pretty bad there..."

"Did I win though?"

Dean struggled for the briefest of moments, the throbbing ache in his head soon making him think better of it. He sank back into the rough carpet with a pitiful groan. Roman breathed deeply, trying to remain calm for both of them.

"You're not in a match. You're in a motel and a tree just smashed in the window, there's broken glass everywhere," Roman paused as a worrying thought occurred to him. "Do you remember who I am?"

"Pfft...course I know who you are. M'big sexy Ro... and I'm not afraid of a bit of glass...you forget about the matches I used to wrestle?"

"This isn't a deathmatch, Deano. Just humour me here, ok? " Roman shuddered.

"Aww, big dog get squeamish at the rough stuff?"

"Only when you're involved. I love you too much to see you put yourself through all that. Now stay still, place this far from town must have some sort of backup generator, it's bound to kick in soon."

"Ok, wake me when it does...jus gonna have a lil sleep while we wait."

Hopefully the night clerk in the office would have been alerted to what had happened by now and help would be already on it's way. In the meantime, aware that Dean may be suffering from a concussion, Roman knew that he had to keep him awake until he could get medical attention. 

"Sorry, babe, you need to stay awake."

"But I'm sleepy."

"I know Deano, but we gotta get you checked out first."

"Mr Brooks! Mr Williams!"

Roman breathed a sigh of relief as the voice of the night clerk broke through the droning of the wind.

"Mr Brooks! Mr Williams! Are you in there?"

“Yes! We’re both trapped in here!” Roman yelled back in reply.

Dean stirred again, only to find himself held in place by Roman once more. He patted at his boyfriend’s side to get his attention.

"Ro?" Dean's voice was almost a whisper, forcing Roman to lean close to hear him. “Ro?”

"Yes baby boy?"

"I've still got my dick out..."

Carefully, so as not to jostle him too much, Roman tugged Dean's shorts back into place.

"Thanks."

The night clerk called to them once again.

"Are you both ok in there?"

"No. My partner has a head wound and maybe a concussion."

"S'not that bad...jus a lil bump...taken worse..."

"Dean, please don't fight me on this. I'm not taking any chances with you."

"Awww. You love me..."

"Of course I love you. Now please stay still and let me look after you."

"Ok...pardner."

"Mr Williams? Ambulance and fire brigade are on their way and we have someone working on getting the generator started so with a bit of luck we'll have the lights back on soon. Just hold tight please. Is there anything you need in the meantime?”

“Not unless you’re good at moving big ass trees, we’re as good as we’re gonna be, thanks.” 

Dean squirmed again pushing at Roman’s hand trying to move him, attempting once more to sit up. 

“Noooo. Lemme up. Needta get away from the fire...” 

“What fire?” 

“Man said fire brigade is coming...” 

“Hush, baby boy. Don’t fret about that. There’s no fire. They’re coming to move that big ass tree I just said to the clerk about. Then we can get you looked at by the paramedics, ok?” 

“Ok. No fire good thing.” 

Dean’s voice was getting slow and heavy sounding once again. Roman shuffled round closer, placing himself between Dean and what remained of the window, using his own body as a windbreak. 

“Ro?” 

“Yes?” 

“Head hurts.” 

“I know baby boy, but the medics will be here soon and they’ll help you feel better. You just gotta keep talking to me...about anything, just talk, ok?”

“What about?” 

“Anything,” Roman wracked his brain for something they could talk about, something that would distract Dean even with after a bad bump. An idea came to him. “Say, baby boy, tell me...is bigfoot just a fairy story made up by drunk hunters?”

That was all the prompt Dean needed, earning Roman a repeat of a lecture on modern cryptozoological discoveries which he had heard many times before, but one which he was more than happy to sit through again if it meant that his lover was awake.

Dean’s mumbled seminar was cut short by the arrival of the fire crew who made short work of propping up what needed to be propped up and safely removing the fallen tree, allowing the paramedics access to the disaster that had been their room. Only when Roman stepped reluctantly away to allow them room to work, did he notice that the power had been restored, the light from the open bathroom doorway spilling into the bedroom, it’s dim glow just enough to allow him to safely navigate the shattered glass minefield in search of shoes and another shirt. 

With thankfully only a token protest, Dean agreed to be taken to the nearest emergency room to be checked over properly. For one brief awful moment, Roman feared that he might not be able to accompany him, but his fears were unfounded. 

The short journey passed in silence, the two holding hands, only letting go once, and then only at the request of the paramedic. Some corner of his mind registered that the winds were still fierce, that the ambulance seemed to drift across the roadway a little as the gusts hit it’s side, but he tuned it out, focusing only on Dean, trusting the driver to get them to the hospital safely.

Arriving at the hospital, a new worry struck Roman. What if they were seen? They were going to have to drop the false names for the paperwork, what if someone recognised them? There were plenty of folk more famous than he or Dean, but the right tip off to the right website could mean all sorts of problems. The emergency room was a lot quieter than he feared, but still Roman had a quick word with the nurse on duty about keeping Dean’s real identity secret when he returned the completed forms.

Then he waited.

His own scrapes and scratches attended to, still more than an hour passed before a nurse came to bring him back to the curtained cubicle where Dean was being treated. Roman trailed after him, stepping through the curtain that was held open for him, remaining silent until he heard it close behind him, leaving the pair alone.

Dean waved groggily from the bed, neck now free of the brace he had worn in the ambulance, head now adorned with a neatly wrapped bandage circling his head like a sweatband. He gestured at the new decoration.

“Just gotta wait here until the doc comes to discharge me. Xray came back ok, all I have is this neat little gash. Only needed eight stitches...hope it won’t make the hair situation any worse. You might not love me anymore if I had weird bald spots…”

Roman moved to the bedside, gathering Dean up in the gentlest embrace he could manage.

“You asshole. Of course I’d still love you if you had weird bald spots...weird bald spots, a beard like Daniel, if you put on sixty pounds...I’m in this for the long haul.”

Dean leaned into the embrace. “Same here.”

“I have never been so scared as I was tonight when I saw you fall. You didn’t move...all those damn fool things you’ve done and I thought you’d been taken out by a tree and a table.”

“Take more than that to finish me, Ro.”

“I know, but they beat you pretty good anyway even if they didn’t get the pin in the end. Point is, it all got me thinking...if we hadn’t been sneaking around this would never have happened. We’d have been curled up at home in bed instead of stuck here in some hospital in god knows where hiding under false names. I’m done.”

“You’re done? Just like that you’re done? What happened to the man who just told me he was in it for the long haul not just two minutes ago?”

“Oh my god...sorry, baby boy...not done with us... _never_ that...I meant done with the sneaking.”

The relief flooding over Dean was practically visible. “Ok. Good. That’s good...so you mean…”

“I think it’s time we started letting folk know. I don’t mean the public, not yet anyway...but maybe our folks, and the guys from work? Only if you’re up ok with it too.”

“As long as we’re together I think I could be.” The curtain twitched, heralding the arrival of the doctor. Dean smiled up at Roman, his gaze full of love. “You go call this accident in to the office while the doc signs me out...and then, let’s go home.”

“Your place or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter, whichever one it is, as long as I’m with you, it’s _ours_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original request from titaniumkitten asked for some Golden Age of Ambreigns h/c with our boys sneaking about & getting caught up in a disaster. Injured Dean, frantic caring Roman & plenty of fluff. Hope this did the trick.
> 
> Warning: Dean takes a bump to the head which Roman initially fears is worse than it is. There's mentions of blood & concussion, also hospitalisation, but ultimately is a minor incident.


End file.
